


Dear 3 am ... we have got to stop meeting this way.

by Cuthwyn



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blood and Violence, Brotherly Love, But not today, Check up on your loved ones people!, Dick isn’t as clueless as he believes, Emotional Constipation, Gen, Hallucinations, Hypothermia, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Lava lamps are cool, Mental Health Issues, Mild Language, Protective Older Brothers, Sleep Deprivation, and need medication according to Jason, it’s a family trait, mild violence, one dayJason and Dick will stop the silliness and just be honest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-03-20 17:58:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13723017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuthwyn/pseuds/Cuthwyn
Summary: It’s never one thing that goes wrong but multiple little things that band together to create one big problem.Like the little problem of Jason’s heating breaking in the middle of winter.Like the little problem of Jason not taking his medication.Like the little problem of Jason’s mental health taking a nose dive.They all band together to create one big problem.Jason standing on Dick’s doorstep with no clue as to how he got there or why.Dick wants Jason to stay.Jason wants to stay with Dick.Dick is prepared to do anything to ensure that happens.Except talk about it.Because that’s silliness.Why would he just ask his little brother to stay?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one shot that’s become a little long to become a one shot.
> 
> Appologies for dropping on and off at the moment.  
> Dissertation is due so a lot of my time is taken up with that right now.
> 
> 6 months to go until I qualify!!

The mind could be a cruel thing. There were things Jason tried hard to remember that forever alluded him. He could, however, remember the things he tried hard to forget.  
Jason’s memory was shoddy at best, even after his little swimming session in the Lazarus Pit.  
It was always a fun, when left alone with his thoughts, to debate if the memory he was currently replaying was actually real or some sort of confabulation. It didn’t help when the ones he was supposed to be able to trust, lied and twisted the truth to paint themselves in a better light. Jason didn’t care about that. He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs that he’d rather have his memory of them being a complete bastard validated, than to be made to believe that he’d made it all up.  
Jason’s mind did that. The people around him called them hallucinations but Jason preferred to just think of it as having a very overactive imagination. Like a super power of his very own.  
Before now he’d had a very vivid vision of a man hiding behind the dumpster only to find that it had been true, and the latest crime boss he’d pissed off had put a hit on him.  
Those little mind tricks Jason could live with, he even found them amusing at times.   
Not like tonight though. Tonight, Jason didn’t have any super powers. 

Tonight, Jason was the sheer definition of weak and pathetic.   
Tonight, the scourge of Gotham was sat underneath his kitchen table, dressed in boxer shorts and a hoodie, his comforter wrapped around his shoulders with a 10 mm clutched tightly in shaking hands.  
Sometimes, memories came back in confusing swirls, like a mass of ink had been poured into clear water and swished around, colours blending and merging, blurring to make nothing of meaning. Pictures, feelings, sounds, smells came to life like a very immersive nightmare. Except nightmares ended when you woke up and Jason was awake. Jason was very aware that he was awake because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to sleep. It had to have have been before this started but he couldn’t recollect how much time had past since then. It could have been a few days or months, all Jason knew was that it felt like forever and he would give his left kidney to go to sleep.

His body was beyond exhausted, every inch of him ached down to his very bones. His stomach knotted so tightly it physically hurt and his head pounded. At one not so fun point, Jason had screamed in terror at the feeling of his head throbbing. He’d been convinced that it was because he’d been struck with the crow bar. The very real looking blood that coated his hands only served to cement this belief and just like before, no matter how much he screamed, no one came for him.  
The only place he felt even remotely safe was underneath his kitchen table, gun in hand facing the kitchen door, the only exit. He may or may not have already boarded up the window with the kitchen chairs.  
Closing his eyes tightly, Jason whimpered when a car screeched by outside.   
He was so unbelievably tired. So tired he was more than willing to risk the nightmares, he could wake up from nightmares.   
Whenever he tried to curl up underneath his table and just catch a few winks of blessed sleep, his mind raced far too much to even hope for success.  
Jason would have cried if he could but the tears trails down his cheeks had long since dried and despite being in the kitchen, he had yet to muster the courage to take the few steps to the sink to get a drink.

So this was Jason’s fate. To huddle beneath the kitchen table as if he was 7 years old again, wrapping his comforter tightly around his shivering body in a bid for warmth. It wasn’t just the waves of anger and fear that caused his limbs to tremble. The heating had broken and it had become so cold, Jason had noticed ice forming on the glass visible through his boarded up window. It was so cold, his feet had long since turned numb. Jason had accepted that Bruce would kick down his door in a few days time to find him frozen to death beneath the damn table. It wasn’t the prospect of his own death that had Jason shaking his head and wrapping his comforter even tighter around himself. No, it was the thought of being so weak. Jason had been a disappointment at the end of his life the first time around, but at least he’d gone out fighting.  
He just wanted to go to sleep.   
‘Let’s play eye spy Little Wing!’  
A small, smile tugged at his lips and Jason nodded. Dick.  
It was Dick he could hear now and quite frankly, he was willing to let go of his hang ups to indulge in something that wasn’t trying to hurt him.   
‘O-Okay Dickface.’ Jason whispered, bravely opening his eyes to study the items in the kitchen.  
Dick smiled from where he was lying next to him and turned to look up at the ceiling.  
‘Eye spy with my little eye? Something beginning with ‘F’!’

Coughing slightly, Jason snuggled down beneath Dick’s covers and looked around the kitchen again. It wasn’t his kitchen though, well it was, but somehow Dick’s bedroom had morphed into it in a way no sane man could ever explain. His eyes settled on a map hidden slightly by a poster of some band Dick liked behind the desk and his heart leapt at the prospect of winning the game.  
‘Ff-Finland!’ He blurted out with a grin. Turning, he frowned to see Dick looking at him sadly. That wasn’t right. He remembered how this went. Dick got so confused he spent the next hour demanding to know how he had spotted the country all the way from the bed.  
‘Aren’t you gonna - ask me- how I see Ff-Finland? Dickie?’ Jason asked, wide eyes blinking up at his brother. Shaking his head, Dick wiped at his eyes and looked over at the map above his desk with a very heavy sigh.  
‘Finland’s temperatures drop to -20 degrees. You’re so cold, aren’t you Little Wing?’  
Shaking his head, Jason shuddered and tried to workout what was going on. Dick’s room was never cold? So how could he be cold?  
A very warm, welcoming smile stretched across his older brother’s face and his arms opened wide, invitingly.   
‘Please, please Little Wing? Let me warm you up?’  
Nodding groggily, Jason leant forwards and waited for the warmth to envelope him, the smell that was so purely Dick.  
The cold, hard floor collided with his face.

Ice cold wind whipped at Jason’s bare legs, and there was snow? Blinking, Jason shook his head and peered around in bemusement. This wasn’t his kitchen. Where did the kitchen go?   
He was outside. In the snow.   
Frowning, he studied the apartment building in front of him and quickly realised that it wasn’t his own. This complex looked much nicer, there was a plant pot visible in the foyer. Breathing in sharply, Jason winced and spluttered before raising a hand to his nose and blinking at the blood that covered his fingers. There was blood on his hoodie too. Was that real blood this time?   
He vaguely remembered hitting his face on the kitchen floor. What happened between then and now was a complete blank. How had he got to wherever ‘here’ was?  
A motorbike was leant, or more accurately abandoned, on the kerb behind him. His bike!   
Jason realised with a dawning horror, he’d apparently driven and had no recollection of it, but apparently he’d had the forethought to shove boots on. Even if he hadn’t put on pants, apparently?  
‘Hello?’

A first, Jason assumed the crackly voice to be another mind trick until the voice asked who was there. Turning, he blinked at the intercom dumbly.  
‘Hello? You called my apartment? You looking for someone?’  
‘Dd-ick?’ Jason asked, cocking his head to the side he tried to frantically to work out why he was here.   
‘Jason? Jason is that you?’  
Jason just stared at the little red light. The door to the building buzzed, but he didn’t move to open it. He hadn’t made the decision to come here, had he?  
Pulling his hood further over his face to try and hide a little more, Jason practically leapt in the air with a panicked yell when a car sped past, its occupants cackling loudly. Deciding that the foyer was at least not outside, Jason pulled the door open and dashed in. Taking up refuge behind the concierge desk, he curled up in a ball and tried hard to keep quiet.

‘Sir? May I help you? Sir, are you alright?’   
Blinking, Jason looked up to see the night guard looking down at him as if he were a rabid fox that had snuck in from a nearby alleyway. His last name meant fox, not that, that, actually mattered right now.  
The man didn’t look like he meant harm. Jason tried to tell himself that but when the guard leant down to offer his hand, Jason flinched back with a shout. Somehow managing to get hold of a stapler, he brandished it at the stranger as if it were his gun, for a moment he actually believed it was.  
Jumping back, the night guard lifted his hands up as if Jason had the plague and side walked over to the phone.  
‘Chill, brother. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Just, just you stay there and I’ll call an ambulance, yeah?’  
Ambulance!   
Eyes widening, Jason knew what ambulance meant and if he wasn’t scared out of his mind already, he was now. Shaking his head, Jason frantically scrambled up to his feet and tried to wrestle the phone out of the man’s hand.  
‘Woah! Easy, easy! I’m just getting y’help!’  
‘Little Wing?’  
Dick, that was Dick’s voice!  
‘Little Wing, let the man go! I’m here, okay? Dick’s here.’  
Blinking, Jason paused his fight and gazed over at Dick stood in front of him, looking less than impressed but fairly harmless in just a pair of pyjama pants and bunny slippers. Taking advantage of the moments pause, Dick reached over and prized the phone out of both men’s grasp and placed it back in its cradle.

‘Sorry Lenny. He doesn’t mean it. Little Wing? Little Wing, come here.’   
Dick smiled and opened his arms out to Jason, who frowned and cocked his head at him. The night guard, Lenny, shook his head and placed his hands on his hips.  
‘You know this guy Mr Grayson?’  
‘He’s-‘ pausing, Dick took in his little brother’s appearance, his face obscured by the hood of his bloodied hoodie, filthy boxer shorts and boots not laced up quite right. ‘He’s a family friend.’  
‘He’s dangerous Mr Grayson, I don’t think-‘ Lenny began, only to be silenced by a single glare from the strange man who lived on the top floor.  
‘He’s not dangerous, he’s frightened, and cold? Are you cold Little Wing?’  
Inhaling sharply, Jason looked over at his brother and tried to find his words, but they alluded him. Instead he nodded slowly. He was cold, very cold, like Finland.  
Dick smiled and took another step forwards, his eyes flicking to the clock on the wall thoughtfully.  
‘Little Wing, why are you here? It’s nearly 3 in the morning?’  
Jason swallowed thickly, he struggled to follow what he was being asked and when he looked at the clock, the numbers all blurred and swayed in front of him. He had no idea what time it was. He was weak and pathetic. Pathetic and a burden. Dick didn’t want to be babysitting his stupid ass brother. Stupid. Should have known to wait for Batman. That’s what they all said. Why was he here? Bothering Dick? That was the question.

Not knowing how else to respond, Jason pressed his shaking fists together and pulled them apart, looking up at Dick in desperate hope that he’d get it.   
‘Break? Broken? What’s broken Little Wing?’  
‘Is he special or something?’ Lenny butted in, but he soon shut up and stepped back with a single glare off Dick. Blushing, Jason turned away in his silent shame and curled in on himself. Even the stranger had worked out that he was stupid.  
‘Hey, Little Wing, look at me!’ Dick spoke up, waiting for his brother to look back at him before repeating the sign for broken. ‘What’s broken?’  
Jason wanted to cry. Turning away, he looked at the radiator on the wall. He didn’t know why he was telling Dick about his heating when it was obvious that things had got bad again, but it was easier to talk about pipes and screws than feelings. Of being so pathetic he couldn’t sleep.  
‘The radiator? The heating? Your heating is broken Little Wing?’ Dick asked, his lips pursing when Jason nodded. 

They had both been kids when Dick had learnt that communication did not merely exist through words. He had learnt long ago that sometimes silence was a better way of reaching Jason than insisting on verbal interaction. Each and every time though, threw Jason off and tonight was no different.  
Eyes widening, he watched Dick reach out his hand, waiting a moment before grabbing hold of Jason’s and tugging him up the stairs.   
‘Thanks Lenny. Have a good night.’ Dick called over his shoulder.  
Watching Mr Grayson drag the deranged boy upstairs with him, Lenny just shook his head and gave the fuck up. What else did he honestly expect in Gotham?

 

Jason’s hand was clammy and worryingly cold. If his little brother wasn’t currently stumbling along behind him, Dick would have thought he was holding the hand of a corpse. Jason usually ran cold, especially after he came back, but this was just ridiculous.  
Peering over his shoulder, Dick watched Jason shuffle and stumble along behind him in growing concern. This wasn’t just Little Wing going through a bad patch, his brother may sometimes present as confused, but he was never this uncoordinated!  
The thought of how long Jason must have been cold for and how cold his home must be, left shivers of his own running down Dick’s spine. He’d always wondered by ‘people with mental health issues’ was tagged on to the list of those most at risk of hypothermia. He should have done as the leaflets said and popped around to see if his brother needed anything, like heating.   
Pursing his lips, Dick swallowed down a wave of guilt, it was too late and unproductive to brood about it now.

The hand suddenly vanished from his and a sharp cry echoed along the silent hallway. Spinning on his heal, Dick watched Jason stumble back in terror, wide eyes staring at the wall. No, not the wall.  
‘Jay? Little Wing? It’s okay.’   
Stepping forwards, Dick tapped his hand against the mirror and smiled at his brother in the hopes of calming him. ‘It’s a mirror Little Wing, see?’  
Jason cocked his head slightly, clearly trying to process what he was saying and although it was tempting to hurry his brother up so he could get warm, Dick waited. Painstakingly slowly, Jason shuffled closer and stared at the mirror. His eyes flitting from reflection Dick to real Dick critically, before nodding his agreement. Jason’s head stilled though when he caught sight of his own reflection. With a heavy heart, Dick watched him frown at it and then look around himself as if seeing if anyone else was there before looking back. A trembling hand reached out to touch the glass before it was snatched back with a hiss.  
‘That’s you, Jay. Me and you in the mirror.’ Dick supplied the answer, not able to hide the solemn tone to his voice.   
Jason didn’t respond. The expression on his face not confused but so very sad and frightened. It unnerved Dick, to see his loud obnoxious brother so vulnerable. Standing there staring at himself dressed in nothing but a hoodie, boxer shorts and boots, it wasn’t hard to picture Jason as the small boy Dick suspected he had expected to see reflected back at him.  
Retaking his hand, Dick tugged lightly to indicate that he wanted Jason to follow him and began walking the last few metres to his apartment.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for being largely absent.  
> I’m a few months away from qualifying so I am a busy bee writing my dissertation and praying that I will pass! Finally!
> 
> I’ll be back soon!

Dicks apartment was its usual sorry state of chaos. Kicking a small collection of shoes to one side, Dick inwardly cringed at his own uncleanliness and guided his little brother towards the kitchen. He tried hard to ignore the lack off eye rolls and huffs, and pretended that he could hear the usual jibe of ‘Gee Dickie, I thought we were going to your place not the city dump.’  
That wasn’t what happened this time.  
Jason was sat at the kitchen table, fingers trailing over the grain of the wood absentmindedly. A softer edge to the expression on his face and instead of judging the mess, Jason seemed to be relieved to be here.   
A warmth tugged at his chest and Dick swallowed heavily before making a very purposeful path towards to the fridge. To have his wayward brother sat in his kitchen, willingly, was more than a little disconcerting. Not too long ago, this had been a wish of Dick’s, that his brother would come home with him. Not the Manor but his home, Dick’s home. It had been the thing Dick had clung to, the hope that enabled him to put one foot in front of the other when Jason had been in hospital. One day, Jason would come home. It was a horrible thought that had guilt pooling in his stomach but for the first time, Jason reached out for him, not Roy or Bruce or anyone else, him. Dick could almost believe that his wish could be a reality. At least for a little while. Was it so bad? To hope?

A low groan followed by the sound of steady thumps dragged Dick out of his reverie. Glancing over his shoulder he saw Jason slam a fist into his forehead over and over again. Grabbing hold of the hot chocolate he’d made, Dick dashed over and set it down on the table.  
‘Jay, Jay no. Jay, come on buddy, don’t hurt yourself like that.’ He practically pleaded. It was so tempting to just pull Jason’s fist away but experience had taught him that such an action only made things worse. He has the scars to prove it. Instead, Dick swallowed thickly and nudged his offering of hot chocolate closer.  
‘Little Wing? It’s Dick, I brought you a warm drink? You thirsty?’  
At first it seemed that Jason hadn’t heard him, until Jason blinked down at the mug and sniffed at it. Wary eyes lifting to scrutinise Dick with suspicion.  
‘It’s just chocolate powder and milk, Jay. Have I ever drugged you?’ Dick replied to the obvious question, a small smile tugging at his lips when Jason grunted his apparent agreement and took the tiniest sip known to man. A few minutes was apparently enough to certify Dick’s claim of the drink being untampered with.   
Hiding a laugh behind his hand, Dick watched his little brother guzzle down the rest of it in no more than three gulps. He dreaded to think how long it was since he’d last drank something. 

Setting the cup down, Jason looked back over at his brother almost as if undecided if he wanted to smile or cry. Instead, his hand pressed against his lips before tilting his palm downwards.  
‘No problem Little Wing, there’s no need to thank me. Would you like some more? I can make more?’  
Shaking his head, Jason sighed and looked up at the sink longingly before settling on giving the toaster a staring contest. Following his brother’s gaze, Dick nodded slowly and stood back up again.  
‘Would you like a drink of water and some toast? Little Wing?’   
Jason blinked and stared blankly at him before giving a small nod, arms hugging himself tightly as a shiver rocked through him. That was a good sign. Jason was warming up if he’d started shivering, but not quick enough. His brother wasn’t just cold though, he was cold and tired and apparently hadn’t eaten or drunk anything for God knows how long. A plan of action quickly forming in his head, Dick filled a glass with warm water before shoving some bread in the toaster.  
‘Surprised you’re asking for toast Jay. I didn’t think you trusted my cooking enough for that?’ Dick chatted away because like how Jason became silent when faced with distress, Dick, couldn’t stop talking. He didn’t get the quick witted response that was just shy of an insult like he usually would, but there was another small grunt which was enough for Dick to chuckle and shake his head. ‘Well, I could always sit down and make you do it yourself. Stop biting the hand that is quite literally feeding you!’ He shot back over his shoulder. 

The toast popped just as he gave Jason his water and before long his brother was demolishing those too.   
Smiling, Dick stood by the kitchen door and watched him eat with a sense of satisfaction that made his toes tingle.  
‘I’m glad to see my toast making skills reach your high standards Jay. I’m just going to the bathroom. You’ll be okay yeah?’  
Jason didn’t do anything. There was no sign, no eye movement, nothing at all.  
Yet, somehow, Dick saw the little brother he’d known. He saw the lost boy who’d run to big brother’s bed when he was frightened or upset. He saw the hand clasping hold of his tightly and the desperate plea.  
‘Please, Dickface, don’t leave me.’  
Nodding, Dick walked back over and sat down in the chair opposite with a heavy sigh. Apparently like it or not, they were going to do this the long way or not at all.  
‘Alright. I’ll just sit here okay?’  
This time, Jason nodded and huffed a shaky breath before taking another bite of toast. The guy had been so hungry the two rounds were pretty much gone already, so maybe a few extra minutes wouldn’t hurt.  
Dick slumped down in his chair and just basked in being able to see Jason, to know he was okay because he was here, in front of him. Jason was alive. He’d never breathe a word to anyone but sometimes? When Jason was gone? When Jason didn’t pick up his phone? It was hard to remind himself that his brother wasn’t still dead. It sounded stupid even in his own head, but the overwhelming grief that hit him most mornings was all too real.   
Realism, now there was a grey subject.

A whistling echoed from the hallway. A neighbour obviously on his way home.  
Jason head shot straight up, resembling that of a startled bunny. A bunny that was actually rather violent. Okay, maybe a bunny wasn’t the best comparison Dick mused to himself in the few seconds it took for Jason to scramble under the table with a butter knife.  
The footsteps grew closer and Dick just stared at his brother, his mind blank and panic bubbling in his chest. This was why Jason never came to him. He just foundered like a fish out of water and looked around for an adult. An adulter adult, an adult that was not him. He’d complained about it once to Alfred, early one morning when the sun was rising before he’d even gone to bed. Alfred had just dipped his tea and smiled in that soft way he did whenever Dick said something stupid or amusing.  
‘You, Master Richard, are an esteemed detective but that sir, is also your downfall. You are over thinking matters. Master Jason may never say I love you but sir, trust me when I say that he always hears it and he shall always feel it.’  
Swallowing thickly, Dick looked back towards his front door, listening to the whistling footsteps fading before looking back at his brother.  
Jason was crouched beneath the table, eyes glued to the door, body tense, knife held tightly.   
Jason always hid under tables. It was his thing. Roy had muttered once that it was where a young Jason had hidden from Willis’ fist. It made sense, thinking about it like that, why his brother dived for the shelter of the kitchen table. Dick would bet any money it’s where his Little Wing had been in his own place before reasons unknown caused him to flee here.

Kneeling down next to the table leg, Dick ducked his head to try and catch Jason’s eye, to pry him away from his staring contest with the door.  
‘Little Wing?’ Dick called out softly, he knew he was risking a stabbing injury but he still held his hand out with a small smile. ‘Hey? Little Wing can I join you?’  
Inhaling sharply, Jason’s didn’t look away from his vigil but nodded slowly. A shaking finger pressing against his lips when Dick crawled under the table and a floorboard creaked.  
‘They’re not coming Little Wing. I promise.’  
Jason didn’t respond. He just tightened his grip on the knife.  
‘And- and if they do? I’m here Little Wing. I’m here and I won’t let ‘em near you. I’m your big brother Jay, and big brothers keep little brothers safe.’ Dick said, cautiously shifting closer as he spoke. At first it seemed like he had no response but then he saw it.  
The way Jason swallowed. The way his eyes darted from side to side, brow furrowed. He was working it out, assessing the field. Just like he did out on the front line. The grip on the knife slackened and it dropped with a clatter on the hard floor.  
With bated breath, Dick watched a tear try to escape an eye but not quite managing it.  
‘Nn-not comin’

It was two words. Whispered in a harsh, dry voice but oh the sound was like bird song to Dick.  
‘No, no Little Wing. They’re not coming for you. See?’  
Panicked eyes that were so dilated and bloodshot they were barely his brother’s eyes, darted from him to the door.  
‘He- he not c-comin’ ff-for me.’  
Dick didn’t know if that was a question or a statement, but he did know who Jason was talking about. The mere thought of that damn clown had a sudden anger rush through him and his bottom lip curled.  
‘HH-He’s not there.’ Jason said, his voice growing stronger with certainty, but he still was transfixed with the front door.  
Swallowing down the anger that had no place under the kitchen table, Dick shook his head and moved his hand next to his brother’s, not touching but close enough.  
‘No. You’re not in that warehouse Little Wing. You’re - you’re in my kitchen? With me? I wasn’t there. I wasn’t there that night.’ 

The words burned his throat as they came out and it took everything he had not to show the hurt the admission caused. Jason didn’t need to see that. No, that was Dick’s cross to bare and for his Little Wing, he bore it willingly.  
Jason nodded and his fingers twitched, moving to hold the hand next to his.  
‘No. You weren’t, Dickie.’ Jason replied, his voice far away, but more doleful than panicked. ‘B-but you felt real. Y-You feel real now.’   
Richard Grayson was a man of many words, it was part of his charm. Jason Todd though proved time and time again to be the only one who could strike him dumb. This was what made him uneasy. When his brother started speaking like this, talking about stuff Dick couldn’t work out the accuracy or origins of. The hovering question of what was real like an ever present buzz in the air. How could he ever answer that? What is real. How can a person ever prove reality to another? Jason made Dick uncomfortable because he made him question what he thought he knew, in every way.

The grip on his hand tightened, dragging his eyes up, Dick blinked blankly back at Jason who was smiling through tears. A soft chuckle left chapped lips but it wasn’t his Little Wings laugh. Without wanting to sound awfully stereotypical, Dick could only describe it as a laugh of a madman. A laugh that was joyful but it was void of a genuine warmth.  
‘Not coming. Not coming!’ Jason laughed, teal eyes gazing up at his brother with so much trust it was almost suffocating. The urge to pull his brother into a hug was like a magnetic pull but instead, Dick swallowed it down and wiped the tears from Jason’s cheeks.  
‘Hey, don’t you go wasting that glass of water on tears you little shit.’ Dick said softly, smiling when a small, genuine chuckle replaced the laugh that he hated. ‘Come on, come with me Jay. Let’s get you clean, warm and tucked up in bed.’  
Jason bristled and studied the hand in his intensely, brow furrowing once more in thought.  
‘In that order?’  
Smacking his lips, Dick shrugged and offered his brother a wry smile.  
‘Sorry dude, I’m afraid the sexy nurse costume is in the wash so bed baths are off the table. You’re having a wash though Jay, because quite frankly? You stink worse than the sewers.’  
Now, normally, that response would have earned him a rightly deserved right hook but tonight, Jason cocked his head slightly before looking away with a sigh.  
‘O-Okay.’ He practically breathed, only putting up a token fight when Dick tugged him out from underneath the table. Dick forced a smile and tried to give an air of being the one in charge and knowing what to do. So far, Jason had been pretty compliant with him and Dick hoped that this was a good sign.

There was a saying not to count your chicks until they’ve hatched. This was a lesson Dick had never quite learnt fully. Whether it was thinking a case was wrapped up just because he thought he had all the pieces of the puzzle, or believing that his brother was going to keep things mellow after his little spell underneath the table.  
First,Jason was obsessed with repeatedly checking the lock on the front door and the security system. It didn’t matter how many times Dick tried to assure him that they were safely locked away inside, Jason still was insistent that he needed to check just one more time.  
It was more than a little frustrating. Jason seemed to have little to no insight into how cold he was and how crucial it was that he warmed up. He just stood shivering by the blasted door unlocking and then locking it.  
Dick had fallen into just following his stumbling brother around in case he fell. Jason was so instant that security needed to be checked that it was hard to argue with him. He spoke with such conviction, with a certainty and reasoning that was so convincing, Dick just nodded along without a single counter argument. How could he argue that there wasn’t a risk of intruders? Of someone trying to get in to hurt them? There was logical reasoning there.

They were vigilantes with a long list of unsavoury people who held more than just a grudge against them. Of course there was a very real risk that someone would have seen Nightwing hanging around and come searching. The crime statistics in Gotham spoke for themselves in regards to an opportunistic criminal trying to rob the place or deciding to take Wayne’s eldest hostage for ransom. None of this was untrue and if Dick said that it wasn’t, both of them would know that he was just lying. Also, Dick knew he could sometimes be a little hypocritical but even he thought it would be taking things too far to make out that he had never gotten out of bed after a bad dream to check the locks. Wasn’t this exactly what Jason was doing? Except he obviously hadn’t slept in a fair while and was slightly delirious from mild hypothermia.  
This couldn’t continue though. It just couldn’t. Maybe Jason would eventually tire himself out?Sighing, he watched his brother clumsily slide the last deadbolt across the door for the umpteenth time. Yeah, no, Jason was a Wayne, no matter how hard he denied it. Jason was going to keep going until he suffered a cardiac arrest and quite frankly, although Dick tortured himself over missing his brother’s funeral, it didn’t mean that he wanted to go to his second one.

‘Little Wing? Jay? Jason?’ Dick called out, again, only to be ignored. Raising an eyebrow, he watched Jason make his way clumsily to the bedroom and something in him snapped. This wasn’t reasonable behaviour. Sure Roy’s mood may have been down in his boots, the reasons for that were valid but the way his friend had chosen to deal with it, was not reasonable. This was the same thing. Following his brother inside the bedroom, Dick closed the door behind him and leant against it. Locking it would serve to only send his brother spiralling further but he could at least provide a barrier.  
‘Jason. Enough.’ Dick ordered, hating to use the voice he used the night he’d taken his brother to Arkham but needs must. It had the predictable response. Jason froze, eyes widening before lifting his head slowly to scowl at his brother.  
‘Don’t. Say that.’ Jason practically growled, fists clenching as he stalked towards his brother. The only adjustment Dick made to his stance was to fold his arms casually as he leant against the door.  
‘Don’t say what? Jason or enough? You don’t like hearing either. This ends now, Jason. Enough, I’ve had enough and you’re going to listen to me!’  
‘I don’t have to listen to you. I hate you!’ Jason bellowed, fist raising to give him a right hook. Catching the strike in midair, Dick used the momentum to switch their positions and hold his brother against the door, the incriminating arm press up hard against his back.  
‘Yes, you do Jason. You’re not well and I’m helping. Like the good brother I am. So here’s your choice, you either let me help or we do this the hard way.’

Grunting, Jason struggled against his brother’s grip before slumping against the wood with a sob that he’d deny until the end of his days.  
‘There you go. Not well. Not well. Fuck you!’ He ground out through gritted teeth.  
‘I’d rather not fuck you, you’re my brother. Fucking you seems to be my best friend’s job.’ Dick shot back, a sly smile stretching across his face when Jason roared and struggled again but the blush was glaringly obvious. ‘And you aren’t well, Little Wing. You’re too cold can you honestly not feel it? If you don’t let me help you, you will become hypothermic and then Lenny downstairs will have to call that ambulance. You like general hospitals worse than psychiatric so please, Jay, let me help.’  
‘Who’s Lenny?’  
Shaking his head, Jason couldn’t help but press himself away from the door and against the wall of warmth that was Dick. For a moment he didn’t care who Dick was he wanted to be against him. Groaning at the heat that permeated through his skin, Jason let his head flop forwards suddenly remembering how tired he was.  
‘Warm.’  
‘Um, yeah? Yeah, we’re going to get you warm Jay, but you have to work with me okay?’ Dick pressed, his own cheeks flushing when Jason hips canted backwards and he immediately let go of his brother in alarm. Jason didn’t mean to rub himself against him like that, but that didn’t make the situation any less uncomfortable. God forbid Jason to remember doing that in the morning. 

Clearing his throat Dick quickly composed himself and took his brother’s hand, guiding him over to the bed. He’d thought the fight was over but as usual he was proven wrong. Jason pulled back and gazed at the bed in terror.  
Frowning, Dick looked from the bed to Jason and back again in confusion. The mirror he got but a bed? What the living hell was wrong with beds?  
‘Jay you need to come and sit down for me.’  
Shaking his head, Jason swallowed and began trembling again only this time it wasn’t just from cold.  
‘Warning. Danger.’ He managed to forced out through short and sharp breathes. Dick couldn’t only blink from Jason to the bed and back again. It was like a damn obstacle course when it came to his brother. One issue was successfully navigated, only for another barrier to be thrown up in it’s place. He had no idea what it was about the bed that had Jason spooked so how could he talk him around this one? The moron needed to go to sleep, he looked like he needed to go to sleep weeks ago!  
‘But, it’s um, my bed Jay? When have I ever hurt you?’ Dick said slowly, watching teal eyes study the piece of furniture before shaking his head. Glaring up at his older brother, Jason swiped his hand under his jaw angrily whilst backing up against the door.  
Struggling to fight the instinct to weep in confused frustration, Dick looked back up at him calmly.   
‘Liar? How am I a liar? Why have you stopped talking to me again you jerk!’ Dick yelled back.

Dick hadn’t meant to raise his voice and the way Jason closed his eyes and pressed his hands over his ears, he knew it was a big mistake. Sinking down to his knees, Jason hit his head repeatedly against the door and a familiar hum broke through the tense silence.   
This was why Jason didn’t come to him for help.   
As much as he wanted to be, Dick sucked at being a good big brother to Jason.  
He always managed to find some way to screw it up.   
At Arkham the nurses pretended not to get frustrated ,but he saw it, the tight smile when it was strongly suggested that the visit was cut short. If anyone could send Jason off the deep end, it was Dick. 

‘No, no Jay don’t do that. Please? I’m sorry okay?’ Dick begged, wishing there was some way of just taking back the last few minutes. Sighing when Jason ignored him in favour of trying to concuss himself with the door, he looked back over at the bed that apparently wasn’t his. He needed to find some way to prove that he wasn’t lying.  
Clambering onto the mattress, Dick foraged around, muttering curses as he suddenly regretted having a minor pillow obsession. After an age lengthened by a millennia, his hand finally wrapped around worn fabric. Pulling out his stuffed monkey, Dick smiled down at him softly and held him out towards Jason.  
‘Little Wing? Look! It’s Abu!’  
Dick’s monkey wasn’t called Abu.  
Dick had christened him Cam when his grandmother made it for him. Jason though, as stubborn as ever, had always been insistent on calling Dick’s monkey Abu, after the monkey in Aladdin. It had been a cause for argument many times before Jason’s death. After his brother died, Dick started calling his monkey Cam Abu, because there were bigger things to get upset about.   
Jason peeped open an eye to look up at Dick cautiously, who smiled and waved the toy at him.  
‘See? Abu stays in my bed doesn’t he?’  
It was like a repeat of the front door again. Jason opened both of his eyes and narrowed them, calculating. He stumbled up to his feet.   
‘You gonna come say hello to Abu, Jay?’ Dick asked hopefully.  
Scowling, Jason sat down gingerly and glared at the toy.  
‘Not a kid.’ He protested, and Dick dutifully said nothing when he reached for Abu anyway. A small smile tugged at Jason’s lips when he brushed Abu against his cheek.

With Jason quietly studying Cam Abu, Dick took the chance to dash to the bathroom to collect a towel and some soap with warm water. His brother startled when he dabbed at the crusted blood around his nose and seemed almost frightened when he noticed the stain on the flannel.  
‘My blood?’  
Nodding, Dick pursed his lips and made another attempt at cleaning up Jason’s face. This time, his brother sat still and allowed the intervention without complaint.   
‘Yes Little Wing. Your nose was bleeding but it’s stopped now. What happened? Do you remember?’  
Jason frowned slightly, fingers rubbing slowly over Abu as he nodded.  
‘Finland is cold. You said you’d warm me up. But I hit the kitchen floor.’  
Dick paused and studied Jason’s eyes intently before washing the rest of his brother’s face and towering it dry.  
‘Jay. I’ve been home, here, all night. Do you accept that?’  
Snorting, Jason pulled his chin out of his brother’s grasp and sighed, sad eyes gazing down at Abu. He didn’t look up when Dick moved away and started foraging around in draws.  
‘I know.’ Jason said blankly, his expression so empty and hollow. He looked so very tired. ‘I know. I’m sick of it. Sick of being angry. Sick of not remembering, of my mind playing tricks I-‘  
Taking a deep shuddering breath, Jason winced when tears rolled down his cheeks. Once again showing Dick that he wasn’t better, he wasn’t strong. Never good enough.  
‘Jay-‘  
‘I’m- I never know? When, when it’ll get bad again. Until-‘ Cutting himself off for fear of letting too much out, Jason closed his eyes tightly. 

Dick had words. They danced around inside his head. Perfectly laid out advice and plans but that wasn’t what Jason wanted. If Jason wanted a lecture on his behaviour he’d be sat with Bruce in the Cave right now, not here, with him. It didn’t matter to Dick that his brother’s presence seemed to stem from a subconscious impulse than rational thought, he was here for a reason and whatever that reason was, he doubted it was to hear a string of words that he’d be told meant something. Instead, he just squeezed Jason’s shoulder gently before moving to pull down Jason’s hood. Bloodied, filthy hands shot up to grab hold of the edges and Jason curled up on himself with a shake of his head. Sighing, Dick ran his hands over the old navy hoodie on his lap before trying to catch Jason’s eye with a smile.  
‘Jay, ssh. It’s okay. It’s just, your hoodie needs to come off.’   
Jason shrank into an impossibly tighter ball.   
‘Jay, come on. You’ve been out in the snow. It’s soaking wet, feel it.’ Dick pressed, cautiously guiding one of Jason’s hands to his shoulders. Teal eyes widened and his brother looked back up at him. Expression conflicted and desperate. That hood was his sanctuary, Jason used it to hide from the world. He felt safer with his face covered and the prospect of revealing himself was just as distressing as developing hypothermia and having to go to hospital. Dick never could work out the hood thing. It wasn’t a new thing, Jason had hidden like this back when they were kids. When his brother came into his bed, he’d always have a hood over his face. 

‘Look Jay. I’ve got a clean hoodie for you to wear? You only have to take the hood off for a few minutes. I won’t look. I promise.’ Dick coaxed, holding out his old hoodie to his brother in offering. Jason straightened up and studied the clothing silently, clearly not trusting the promise but still tempted by the idea of wearing something that was dry and didn’t stink to high heaven. Trembling hands reached out to take it and Jason gazed up at him expectantly.  
Right.   
Dick had promised not to look.  
Smiling, Dick chuckled, pointedly closed his eyes and turned the other way.  
Jason took in a deep breath and studied the hoodie with trepidation. He could do this, he could. Like Dick said it was only going to be a few minutes. There were 180 seconds in 3 minutes.  
Slowly he began to tug his arms through the sleeves of the hoodie he’d been wearing since forever.   
‘1, 2, 3.’ Jason counted quietly under his breath. There were 180 seconds in 3 minutes.  
Dick listened to his brother counting softly and could make out the rustle of fabric. It seemed slow going but the continued rustling was promising.  
‘180.’ Jason said a little louder and wet, filthy fabric hit Dick square in the face when he turned back around. Pulling it off, Dick raised an eyebrow.  
‘Very funny Little Wing, you’re a real comedian.’ He huffed, dropping the hoodie to the floor he held up the clean pair of boxer shorts he’d found. 

Jason was far taller and even when he hadn’t eaten in a while, Jason’s hips and thighs were far wider than Dick’s. The boxer shorts actually belonged to Bruce, not that Dick was foolish enough to tell Jason that. Neither did he have a desire to explain why he had them. Sure, Dick had a habit of stealing belongings like some sort of magpie but he honestly had just packed them by accident the last time he’d been at the Manor. Because seriously, why would he want to steal his father’s boxer shorts?  
Jason took one look at the underwear and teared up, his entire face turning red enough to be visible beneath his hood and the low light of the bedside lamp. Dick forced yet another smile, there was no point in pointing out why the boxer shorts had to go. Jason was obviously well aware and like any young man, it was more than humiliating.  
‘Here. D’you want to go to the bathroom to do it?’ Dick asked, trying hard to keep a careless air to his tone. As if everything was okay and not in anyway awkward. His answer was the boxer shorts being snatched out of his hands and Jason scurrying to the door only to freeze once he’d opened it. Jason tried to walk through but every time he tried, every fibre of his being screamed at him to stop. It wasn’t safe. Dick was safe. As if summoned, a hand slipped into his. Gasping, he blinked back at his brother, who was smiling at him, bowl of dirty water in hand.  
‘I’ve got to empty this bowl.’ Dick said simply, before tugging his brother over the threshold.

The mirror was covered easily enough by a towel. Mirrors seemed to be a not cool thing right now and a repeat of the hallway wasn’t going to help the situation. Jason had been hesitant but seemed okay with Dick pouring water down the sink, whilst he pulled off his boxer shorts and shoved them in the bin before sitting down on the toilet. Privacy had blurred boundaries when you were a vigilante and Dick was well aware of the observations his brother had been under in Arkham. Wetting a clean flannel with warm, soapy water, Dick handed it over to Jason, making sure to keep his eyes on the sink, before kneeling down to sort through his bathroom cupboard. The main reason was to still give Jason the illusion of privacy, but also to see if he could find anything amongst his own mini-pharmacy that might help settle him. Most were useless however, tucked just behind a bottle of aspirin was his own sleeping tablets. Smiling, Dick took the little white box and tucked it into the pocket of his pyjama pants. Just as he was about to close the door, Dick spotted the box of nicotine patches he’d acquired from when Jason had rocked up at the Cave bleeding out. There was no way Bruce would permit smoking in the medical bay and everything escalated from there. Apparently Jason didn’t withdraw from nicotine well and agitation was a symptom he suffered from the most. Deciding that as much as he loved his Little Wing, he couldn’t bring himself to allow Jason to light up here either. Dick collected that box too. Although in all honesty, loving his brother was the entire reason why he couldn’t stomach watching him breathe in that poisonous smoke. Straightening up, Dick closed the cupboard and smiled over at his brother who was still sat on the toilet.  
‘We done yet Jay? Jay?’  
Dick’s smile fell.

The flannel was held in a limp hand, water dripping to make a small puddle on the floor. The clean underwear hooked around one ankle. Jason was just sat there, staring off into space. Maybe leaving him to it hadn’t been the best idea after all?  
‘Jay? Little Wing?’ Dick called out, crouching down in front of his brother he clicked his fingers in front of his face. ‘Jason?’  
Jason just stared at the wall. Clicking his fingers again, Dick frowned when he got no response. It seemed that Jason had completely checked out. He’d seen Bruce do this once. It had been after Jason had died. Dick had been so hurt and angry at not being told and missing the funeral. His grief serving to only fan the flames of his ever problematic anger. Back then, Dick had thought himself to be all grown up, but when the rage had burned out, he remembered the terror of seeing his father just staring blankly at him. He remembered Alfred coming, but anything after that was a very unhelpful blur. Blinking away tears, Dick reached out to stroke Jason’s cheek. He knew he had to do something but he couldn’t remember, and Alfred wasn’t here to pick up the slack. They couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, that much he knew. Jason would get cold again sat on the toilet like that.   
Giving himself a very hard mental shake, Dick gently took hold of the flannel and began washing his brother himself. Taking it slow, just in case Jason snapped out of it or something and startled.  
‘Okay Little Wing. It’s okay, let’s, let’s get you sorted and then we’ll go to bed.’ Dick chatted away, the silence more than a little unnerving and needing to be filled. ‘Must admit Little Wing, this was not what I thought being a big brother would be like. Always have to push it, don’t you hmm?’

Despite a now quite colourful career as a vigilante, the silence had to be one of the most frightening experiences of Dick’s life. He didn’t know what to do. He never knew what to do.   
An ambulance with the reassurance of an EMT team was very appealing but Jason would never forgive him. Jason still hadn’t forgiven him for Arkham, not that Dick had forgiven himself for that either.  
Sniffing, Dick wiped tears away with the back of his hand and tossed the flannel into the sink. Why had Jason come here of all places? He was utterly useless.   
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t walk away either.   
Closing his eyes, Dick rested his forehead against his brother’s knee and tried to find some words of wisdom from somewhere to help him. The only phrase that came to mind only served to both explain why Jason was here, but also highlight how turbulent their relationship truly was.  
‘A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born at a time of adversity.’ He whispered through his tears, as if in silent prayer for Jason to show any form of life.  
‘Pp-Proverbs.’   
Came a rasping voice and Dick shot up to look at his brother who was still staring at the wall but there seemed to be some lucidity coming back.  
‘Jay?’  
‘Proverbs. 17:17.’ Jason muttered, scrunching up hid face before shaking his head. Dick could have danced for joy, elation shone through him like a beacon and he nodded in earnest. Tugging his brother’s boxer shorts further up his legs he pressed a kiss to Jason’s palm.  
‘Yes. Yes Jay, a brother is born at a time of adversity. Proverbs 17:17.’


	3. Chapter 3

Jason woke with a gasp, in the echo of a scream, the world blurred and distorted.  
Blinking furiously, Jason sat bolt upright and tried to take account of himself and the story so far. Like a recount at the beginning of an espinosa or a TV series.  
He felt warm and his stomach only gave a small grumble instead of trying to eat itself. His head was a little quieter than it had been. He’d been asleep. As far as he could make out he wasn’t injured or sick.  
As useful as knowing that he was okay was, it was also quite alarming. He had been cold, hungry and frightened. Something had happened to change that.   
The sheets itched and felt wrong. They weren’t his sheets. The laundry detergent was wrong.  
It was Tide, he could figure out that much, but it wasn’t the right one. Jason used the original scent but the liquid version that came in the red bottle. Nothing felt quite right unless it was washed with that specific brand. A sense of betrayal bubbled in his gut.  
The audacity of it was just unthinkable.  
Even Roy knew that there were just things in Jason’s life that you just didn’t mess with. His laundry detergent was one of them.  
Brushing his fingers over the covers, Jason frowned at the deep blue colour. He didn’t own blue sheets, that was Dick’s colour. 

Dick.  
Now that rang a bell. A very large Dickhead shaped Bell.  
Breath caught in Jason’s throat when he looked around and realised that this wasn’t his bedroom.  
He could barely call whatever he was lying in a bedroom. A bed amongst a pile of junk seemed more appropriate. This mess and different laundry detergent, what on Earth was happening to him?  
Tears welled in Jason’s eyes but he refused to let them fall, not in alien territory with who knows what dangers lurking to get him. There were no obvious sounds other than the hiss of the heating.  
It was odd that a murderer would kidnap him and take him home for a nap before he was butchered, but anything was possible in Jason’s mismatch of a life.  
Taking a deep steadying breath, Jason shifted on the bed he was lying in and made to creep out, to try and kill his attacker before they killed him.  
His fingers gripped something warm and squishy before tugging the object out.  
A worn stuffed monkey, sewn in the rag doll style and wearing a waistcoat greeted him. The monkey smiled at him with a fuzzy wool smile and glistening button eyes that looked pleased to see him.  
‘Abu?’ Jason muttered, stroking the monkey’s head before analysing the room again. Noting the mess, the blue sheets washed in the wrong detergent, the random posters on the wall. ‘This is Dick’s room.Yes, because you sleep in Dick’s bed don’t you Abu?’  
The monkey’s head flopped forwards and that was enough for Jason to decide that it was a nod.  
Dick wasn’t a threat. Dick was safe. No matter how he had come to be here Jason knew that much. Rubbing his cheek against Abu’s soft fabric, Jason sat and enjoyed just looking around the room and not feeling frightened.

There was however something that didn’t feel good. It was damp where he was sitting.  
Eyes shooting wide open, Jason peeped beneath the covers before resurfacing again with a groan of humiliation. This was ridiculous, he was a grown ass adult!   
The pad that had been slipped beneath him served only as a very visual aid for his rage. How dare Dick do something like that to him!  
Another look at Abu though, and Jason knew that thought wasn’t entirely fair.  
It was like Roy had said to him once, there wasn’t anyone who could dream about being beaten by a crowbar, or any of his other menagerie of nightmares, and not lose control of their bladder. Hugging Abu to his chest, Jason scurried out of bed and gazed down at the mess with tearful eyes. Roy’s words may have angered him at the time but now, they served as a balm which at least dulled the sting of the situation.   
It didn’t change his problem though.   
This was Dick’s bed not his. He didn’t know where the bathroom was and he sure as hell didn’t know if Dick even owned a washing machine? Before when he’d walked past Dick’s apartment building he had noted how posh it looked and he knew that rich folks had their washing machines in their apartments. That was a plus if so. Jason hated having to sneak down to the laundry with wet sheets. Last time, he’d been caught by a tired eyed mother who’d spent a good half hour lamenting the trials of children with him. Jason had wanted the ground to swallow him up but instead he nodded along and pretended some pesky kid had peed on his sheets.  
If there was no laundry though, he’d have to find Dick’s washing machine and the bathroom and Jason was pretty sure he hadn’t packed an overnight bag.

Anxiety clawed at his throat, weighing so heavy on his chest Jason was forced to crouch down, Abu squeezed tightly to him.  
A pile of clothes caught Jason’s attention, sat neatly on the bedside table next to where he had been sleeping. His legs shook too much to stand, so Jason succumbed to just crawling over to get a closer look.  
It was a pair of sweatpants and on top of it was a note written in Dick’s familiar scrawl.

‘Morning Little Wing,  
I know you most likely won’t wake but, in case you do, I’ve gone to get you some stuff. I’ll be back soon. Bathroom is first door on the right. I hope the pants fit. Don’t worry about any washing. I’ll sort it when I get back.  
Love you billions. Dick X’

‘Love you billions.’ Jason read about loud with a snort of amusement. He didn’t know why but that statement sounded just as ridiculous as his big brother. Love you billions didn’t make sense to him and Jason spent the next few minutes trying to work out how you could love someone billions before giving up.   
‘Love you billions, Abu.’ Jason said humorously to the monkey.  
So Dick had gone out. That explained why dangly, grabby spider limbs hadn’t descended as soon as he had woken up, gabbling so many words that Jason couldn’t keep up. Dick could be quite frightening in his way, sometimes he talked faster than Jason’s thoughts and that was saying something!

For some reason, it was only now that it became clear to him that Dick knew!  
He knew what was likely to have happened when Jason woke up. He’d been really bad when he’d rocked up at Dick’s apartment after hallucinating under a table. Yes, that was how he’d arrived here. Not that, that, mattered, what mattered was that Dick knew. Dick knew how much of failure he was.  
The absorbent pad wasn’t alarming because they had other uses when you were a vigilante, who didn’t want their landlord to know that they’d practically sewn an arm back on.   
Everyone had them. What was alarming was that Dick knew that Jason was apparently a small child and had snuck one underneath him by magic.  
Jason had enjoyed those few minutes of just feeling safe and the thought of Dick seeing the sheets and telling him to go back to his own bed caused his stomach to twist. He couldn’t go back, he wanted to stay here. With Dickie.  
Jason’s cheeks burned with humiliation that twisted and morphed into sour anger in his belly. With Abu tucked safely beneath his arm, Jason stood on trembling legs and began snatching up fistfuls of sheets. Stripping the entire bed in seconds before stomping off on a mission to find a washing machine. He was going to prove to Dick that he wasn’t some weak link the family had to put up with. He might be allowed to stay if he showed Dick that he was better now.

Jason’s momentum skidded to a halt in the kitchen. The washing machine was easy enough to find and luckily it was one of the fancy ones with a dryer. Dick may have given him sweatpants but Jason would rather go naked than go commando. That was just wrong.  
Once he’d loaded the washer, with Abu watching from the counter, Jason frowned at the detergent he found beneath the sink. It was Coral Blast. That was the wrong detergent.  
Now what was he going to do? There was no way he was putting on underwear washed in Coral Blast. Why did Dick even have Coral Blast? Alfred washed the laundry in the original Tide, because he understood. Apparently Dick didn’t.  
Muttering away to himself, Jason frowned some more before he spotted a familiar red bottle. It was nearly empty but Jason was able to scrape out the required amount with a butter knife he’d found on the floor.   
Cycle on, Jason leant back against the machine and glanced over at Abu, who was silently judging.  
‘Oh shush. You sleep with Dick every night don’t tell me you ain’t seen a guy’s junk before. How you aren’t in monkey therapy I don’t know.’ Jason shot back with a waggle of his finger. 

 

The kitchen really was a bomb site in fact, he’d seen tidier bomb sites. Dick would be pleased if he came home to a tidy place that didn’t smell like armpit and pizza. Maybe Dick would let him stay at least until after dinner if he tidied up?  
Bruce always seemed pleased when Alfred reported how tidy he was, maybe his brother would think the same?  
So Jason was off, transferring armfuls of bowls into the sink to begin his mammoth task.  
Abu watched from the counter and the monkey was adamant Jason was forgetting something, but Jason paid him no mind.  
What did a stuffed monkey know anyway?

Dick snuck away to go to Jason’s apartment just as the sun was rising. He’d barely slept himself, preferring to watch over his brother and make sure he was alright. To reaffirm that he was actually there. It had been quite a mission to get Jason into bed. After the bathroom incident Dick had to practically carry his taller, heavier brother back to the bedroom. Jason made no protest though when Dick had pulled back the covers and lightly pushed him into it. Jason didn’t so much as grumble when Dick stuck the nicotine patch on his arm and held out the sleeping pills for him to take. Which was odd.  
Jason and medication never saw eye to eye, he wouldn’t even take a multivitamin without a fight. Dick knew that much from watching the nurses tear their hair out trying to get his brother to take anything when he’d been in hospital. He was pretty sure the only reason Jason had something that could only slightly be called compliance, was because of Roy breathing down his neck every day. Dick smiled to himself at the image of Roy counting tablets thinking he was being sneaky whilst Jason rolled his eyes from he couch.

Maybe that’s what happened? Roy had been away for a few weeks. Jason had been left alone. There had been no one there to remind him to take his meds. There had been no one there for his little brother when the heating broke leaving him cold and frightened. Roy had asked Dick to check up on Jason, but he had shaken his head and just agreed to calm Roy’s obvious neurosis. Jason was an adult and didn’t need checking on like some puppy. In a way, Dick supposed he had been right.  
Jason could look after himself just fine but there was a fine line between acknowledging someone’s autonomy and leaving them to struggle. Jason wouldn’t have welcomed Dick rocking up on the doorstep every day to ‘check’ on him like a glorified baby sitter, but maybe a phone call just to say ‘hi’ might have worked? Would Jason have even answered the phone?

The same useless question circled around Dick’s head as he coaxed his brother to lie down and tucked the sheets snuggly around him. The pad he’d snuck underneath, Dick wasn’t even prepared to sacrifice brain space on. It’s not like it was even an issue, and he’d didn’t think that Jason knew that he knew, so why draw attention to it?  
Jason let out a tired but pleased huff when Dick tucked Cam into Jason’s arms and lay down next to him. Smiling, Dick relished in the rare opportunity to run his fingers though his brother’s hair without them getting broken in reprimand.  
‘We safe now Jay?’ He whispered.  
Jason nodded and shifted closer to the warmth his brother offered and snuggled his face further into the pillow.   
‘Good, Little Wing. Now, go to sleep.’

It is odd, the things that catch your attention and pull you from your private thoughts. For Dick, it was strange, little black marks littering the walls of the foyer of Jason’s apartment building. The place was one more cockroach away from being condemned, but the little black marks stood out against the greying walls nevertheless.  
They were from boots. Someone had kicked the wall, multiple times. Frowning, Dick ran a gloved finger over them before following the path they made towards the stairwell. Dread began to weigh heavy in Dick’s stomach as the marks followed him all the way up to his brother’s apartment.   
It didn’t require the Batman to work out who had made the marks.  
‘Oh Jason.’ Dick sighed, before taking the key Roy had given him and fitting it into the lock. Pictures of the hell he was going to be met with already flashing in his head as he tried to push open the door. It wouldn’t budge.  
When Dick pushed up against it he could see through the small gap that the door was blocked by something.  
‘For Christ’s sake Jason!’ Dick grumbled to himself, before taking a step back and giving the door a few hefty kicks. The action was pointless but the resulting booms were at least satisfying for his growing frustration. A couple more kicks later, Dick was skulking off to the fire escape. In truth, he had no idea why he had tried the door? Sure Roy had given him a key, but Dick didn’t even use his own front door, except when his brother was picking fights with Lenny in the foyer.

The windows were blocked too. On closer inspection, Dick quickly deduced that someone, probably his brother, had boarded them up haphazardly using what looked like furniture.   
Deciding that trying to decode Jason’s actions would only serve to infuriate him more, Dick opted to just take what he was presented with a deal with it.  
Much to Jason’s annoyance, big brother was one of the very few who could disable his death traps disguised as alarm systems. That was quick work, but what took the time was smashing a window and prying apart the barricade, without gaining attention, in broad daylight.  
It was the living room that Dick stepped into. At least that’s what it looked like, but it was missing some key pieces of furniture. All that remained in the dark room was a bookshelf, a TV and an array of cushions scattered around like confetti.   
The air was bitterly cold, so cold it seeped through Dick’s thick coat, hat, scarf and gloves. Breathing out a puff of air, Dick watched it create a small cloud of mist before evaporating into the silent atmosphere.  
Silent wasn’t entirely true though. The apartment may be silent now but looking around, Dick swore he could hear the echo of screams. An echo that sent a shiver down his spine more than the icy cold.   
There were black marks similar to the ones outside covering the walls but that wasn’t what had Dick’s eyes widening. Blood was smeared everywhere, broken glass littered the floor and there wasn’t any lightbulbs in the light fittings. Dick vaguely remembered Jason muttering about how sometimes he’d sit in the dark, fearing that a light would alert ‘them’ of his presence. Dick never asked him who ‘they’ were and had never thought much about it until now, he never saw it as an issue, until now. Jason had been freezing, sat alone in the dark amongst broke glass, bleeding.   
Guilt weighed so heavy, it was hard for Dick to put one foot in front of the other as he walked past the kitchen and headed for the bathroom. He couldn’t stomach discovering what state the kitchen was in, his imagined images of Jason sat under the kitchen table were bad enough. Reality be damned.   
Dick had a mission.   
Find the meds.  
Get out.  
Pray that his brother stayed with him.

The bathroom was also missing a light bulb and had no window. Switching on the torch on his phone, Dick heard the crunch of glass beneath his converse as he stepped inside.   
Frowning, Dick lifted his foot and shone his torch down to get a better look at what he had trodden on. Shards of broken mirror littered the bath mat and lying amongst them was a sledgehammer.   
Dick half wondered why Jason even owned a sledgehammer before looking up to see the door of the medicine cabinet hanging from one hinge, the mirror on its front smashed.  
At least it was easy to get to Jason’s medication. Although the cabinet was empty, and its contents were piled in the sink below. Dick pursed his lips and crept closer, dreading finding out that his idiot brother had washed all his pills away, it wouldn’t be the first time. If Jason had no meds left, Dick would have to go the free clinic to get another script for him. Dick’s balls ached in phantom pain at the thought of how cross Leslie would be with him for neglecting his big brother duties.  
With his free hand, Dick carefully moved around the broken mirror to pick up a packet to inspect it. To his relief it was still full and on further inspection, everything else was still there too, which was a good and bad sign due to the fact that Jason hadn’t taken anything for over a month.  
‘What the fuck is your problem? Stupid, idiotic-‘ Dick spat in frustration before taking a deep breath and counting to ten to calm down.   
Jason confused Dick, and when Jason’s confused Dick, Dick got angry, which caused Jason to get angry and then things got out of hand. It was the story of how their relationship worked.

Shaking his head violently, Dick stuffed the packets into a plastic bag he found on the floor and made to escape this apartment of pain and torment. To run away from the story he never could bear to listen to.   
A glimmer of light froze Dick in his tracks and he turned to look at it. A dusty shimmer of golden sunlight streamed from a door that held slightly ajar by the dressing gown hung on the top of it.  
It seemed impossible, but this light was bright and held a warmth that nothing else in this forgotten place did.  
His feet were moving before Dick had made a conscious decision, drawn to the golden light like a moth he pushed open the door with a soft creak.  
Jason’s bedroom was different to the rest of the apartment and Dick couldn’t understand why.  
There was no bed.  
Just a tattered looking mattress on the floor with jumbled up bloodied sheets that stunk. Dick was silently amazed by the amount of blood stains that existed.   
Jason had a few cuts from what he could make out last night but nothing that would bleed this much? How did his brother even have enough blood in him to redecorate an entire apartment?

The bedroom was different to the rest of the rooms. Dick could see his brother here. Books were left open at random pages around the bed and stood in line on the bookshelf like soldiers. No furniture survived Jason’s barricade building except the bookshelves, because of course the bookshelves would survive. Smiling a little, Dick wandered over to no more than three photographs blue tacked to the wall. One was of Jason as Robin with Bruce, amusement danced in his eyes to see it, Dick had heard from Alfred how Jason had tried to get Batman to do a sexy pose. There was a strip from a photo booth Jason and Roy had decided to mess about in. That made Dick’s smile grow, seeing his brother and best friend grinning into the camera and pulling faces like a couple of loons. There was something so aching normal about taking silly photos with a loved one. For either of them to have reached a point of actually doing it brought tears to Dick’s eyes.  
The final photograph gave him a moments pause, the last two had obviously been Jason’s reasons to smile, things he’d find amusing. So why was there a picture of him and Dick?  
Dick remembered taking it. Arkham had still hung like a shadow over them, but Jason had finally agreed to meet him at a diner in California of all places. Dick had taken this photo of him kissing Jason on the cheek. Studying Jason’s scowling face, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why or how his brother had stolen the photograph.

Taking a deep breath, Dick looked around the room again, taking in the atmosphere, his brother. The echoed screams were still there but they were muted some how. It was odd but not unsettling. The closest feeling he could match it to was a very old, very dusty memory that sat in the back of his head. Packed away and almost forgotten.  
The first time his mother had taught him to pray the rosary.   
Dick remembered waking in terror, tears staining his face as he ran to his parents’ bed for comfort.  
Mary had smiled at her frightened son and taken him up in her arms and they prayed together. Not too long into his fumbled attempt to follow his mother’s words, Dick remembered when Mary had lost Jesus. He could imagine how frightening that must have been, like he was feeling, before Mary found Jesus again in the temple. If Mary could lose Jesus and become frightened but find him again, maybe he could too?   
It had been the first time Dick had realised that to pray the rosary was to hold the life of Jesus in one hand and your own in the other and attempt to bring them together.

Smiling at the old memory, that was almost fuzzy around the edges now, Dick sent a silent thank you to his mother. Yes, this was what this feeling was but it still didn’t make sense to feel this way in Jason’s bedroom. A flashing caught his eye.   
It was a portable CD player that was lying where it had been left on the bed. He couldn’t explain why he did what he did but Dick reached for it.   
Jason listened to music to fall asleep. Dick didn’t really understand how someone could sleep with a rave playing all night, but he just went with it.  
Popping the headphones over his head, Dick pressed play, curious about what it was his brother had been listening too. The device was set to repeat so Dick just went with listening to whatever song that was.

Four quick beeps played before an introduction Dick recognised.  
‘Just in case, I will leave my things packed. So I can run away. I cannot trust these voices. I don’t have a lot of prospects, that can give some kind of peace.’  
Eyes widening, Dick sat dumbly down on Jason’s bed, unhindered by the blood or smell. He knew this song. He knew this band.   
Jars of Clay.   
He had multiple albums scattered around his various addresses. Except this album, Good Monsters, he had owned it once but no matter where he had looked, Dick had been unable to find it. Frowning, he stared up at the water stains on the ceiling feeling a little betrayed. Had Jason stolen his album? It seemed a Jason sort of thing to do, but why? Jason didn’t have faith, not anymore.  
The image of the Jason Dick knew, the knobbly kneed teenager came to mind. The Jason who smiled and kept his rosary tucked safely away in its pouch.   
Jason had his faith once.  
A faith that made Dick’s own lack of devotion seem shameful. That was gone now. Dick understood why. Jason thought he was doomed to Hell so why carry on trying to save a soul already damned?  
‘There is nothing left to cling to, that can bring me sweet release.’

As Dick lay and listened to the song, a memory trickled through his confused haze. Once or twice, Dick had seen Jason secreting himself away in hospital, usually to his bed. He would sit and mumble words no one could make out, his hands resting on his knees, palms facing the ceiling. The staff never did work out what it was his brother did every day but whatever it was, for that 20 minutes or so, Jason calmed. The tranquility carrying on long after he ceased his mumbling.  
‘I have no fear of drowning, it’s the breathing, that’s taking all this work. Do you know what I mean? When I say I don’t wanna be alone?’ Dick sang along, softly under his breath, his hands trembling as he stretched them out in front of himself, resting them on his knees like his brother had done.   
‘One bead followed by a group of ten is one decade.’   
Dick heard his mother whisper in his ear, soft hands almost felt real as they stoked over his. Tears welled in his eyes as he contemplated his fingers in dawning horror. Jason hadn’t been hallucinating at all.  
Jason had been praying, deprived of his beads, that clever, infuriating little shit counted his Hail Marys on his fingers.  
Jason never lost his faith!

Swallowing thickly, Dick felt his world shifting, slipping between the fingers stretched out in front of him. Had his brother told him out right that he no longer had faith in God? He couldn’t recall. Everything was so twisted and tangled up, Dick had no idea what Jason had told him, what he’d learnt from his own detective work, and what was just pure assumption.   
Jason had been praying whilst in hospital and not once had the notion ever dawned on him. He’d heard of people using their fingers, usually in times of great need like just before death, but never had the idea even crossed Dick’s mind.   
As the closest the nurses had to a nearest relative (even though he actually had been), they asked him for an explanation for his brother’s behaviour, when Jason refused to elaborate. Dick had just cast him a single cursory glance and chalked it all down to the mumblings of a madman.  
What else had Dick just ignored in favour of calling his brother mad? Jason’s nurse would always correct him when he said that, telling him that no one ever did anything without reason. It always seemed ludicrous to him because Jason and reason never had seen eye to eye.  
At least what Dick understood, which was what reason was, wasn’t it?

Jason hadn’t just rolled over and gone to sleep last night. It took forever for Dick to shoot down everything Jason threw up. Insane, complex ramblings that seemed to flit from one idea to another. Fear still bubbling away in the background and it drove Dick to distraction. He wanted to care for his brother but man, he needed sleep!  
‘The lambs? Is that why? It was supposed to be lambs. I didn’t have lambs.’ Jason mumbled into Dick’s chest, from where he’d flopped moments before.  
Rubbing Jason’s bicep, Dick yawned and prayed silently for God to ease Jason’s thoughts just a little so he could get some sleep. At least Jason felt warm beneath his hand now which was a plus he supposed.  
‘Huh? Lambs? What lambs?’ Dick grumbled, opening an eye to see Jason prodding at a stitched up gash on his wrist. The stitching was wonky and blood congealed in the gaps, Dick didn’t want to think about how Jason had acquired the injury. Slapping Jason’s hand away from it, he made a mental note to restitch it tomorrow. ‘There’s no lambs in Gotham Jay. Go to sleep.’  
‘That’s why I did it. No lambs. Didn’t wanna be alone.’ Jason mumbled, eyes wet and downcast as he studied the wrist Dick was refusing to even acknowledge the existence of. Sighing, Dick dragged a weary hand down his face and looked over at his lava lamp. Bingo!   
Jason always used to zonk out watching the lava lamp, maybe it would still work.  
Stretching over Jason, who let out a small yelp of surprise at being moved, Dick flicked the switch and smiled when the orange blobs of goop began moving around.  
‘There. Now find some chill Little Wing. Please!’  
With a huff, Jason snuggled further into his pillow and turned to watch the lamp, eyes slowly growing heavy.   
Apparently the lava lamp still worked, better than sleeping pills apparently? Who knew?  
‘Do you know what I mean, when I say I don’t wanna be alone? What I mean when I say I don’t wanna be alone.’ 

The song bled through Dick’s memory and his brow furrowed in thought. This song always seemed to mean being lost and desperately seeking God to Dick. The desperation in the song, playing on repeat, squeezed at his chest, making it hard to breathe. How desperate must Jason have been to listen to this on a loop?  
There hadn’t been any lambs but his brother didn’t want to be alone.  
It made no sense and Dick wanted to scream with the frustration and self hatred that weighed down heavily on his limbs. Forcing him to sit and listen to this damn song.  
His eyes travelled to the blood on the wall again and suddenly, he was sat up staring at it intently.  
The blood wasn’t on the walls.   
It was on the door posts. It had been the same in the other rooms.  
‘The blood will be a sign for you on the houses where you are, and when I see the blood, I will pass over you. No destructive plague will touch you when I strike Egypt.’ Dick muttered, eyes wide and his pulse sped up. Jason had used his blood in the place of a lamb’s! It made sense now, in a skewed kind of way.  
Jason had used his blood in the hopes that God would not visit him with his curse. Jason had known he was becoming unwell, but to get Exodus so twisted in his head, it probably had been far too late by the time the blood made it to the door posts.  
With trembling hands, Dick switched off the device and set it down. With new eyes Dick stared around Jason’s bedroom in astonishment. There was a story here, Jason’s story.

The anger and fear that bubbled in his gut fizzed when he stood on shaky legs to run a trembling hand over the blood on the door frame.  
Dick never understood why the nurses or even Roy would glare at him when he said Jason was just being Jason. He was mad. There wasn’t always rhyme or reason for things he did, he just did them. Swallowing thickly, Dick wandered out of the bedroom and made his way over to the broken boiler. He just stared at it, emotionless, until he remembered the sledge hammer in the bathroom.  
Jason’s actions frightened Dick, they made him angry, hurt and confused. Maybe that was why he would call his brother mad and say that he didn’t make sense. Dick never did like not knowing why and his Little Wing was quite adept at throwing curve balls. Turning silently away from the boiler, he paused on his way to the bathroom to stare at the blood stains again.  
Dick had finally worked out the why.   
Just because he didn’t understand why Jason had done something, didn’t mean there was no reason, there was always a reason. It’s just hard to see if the lens he was looking through was different to his brother’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song used in this chapter.
> 
> https://youtu.be/lL0041GDsqE


End file.
